All Strings Attached
by missdramallama
Summary: This is the story about how I may or may not have lost my virginity. The one topic that should not be debatable. Too bad it's not. But to know the end you have to know the beginning. And Edward if you're reading this...it's Bella and we need to talk.
1. Chapter 1

**All Strings Attached**

By- missdramallama

When I opened my eyes this morning all I wanted to do was immediately shut them. Not because my iHome was singing another song from the oh-so-popular show_ Glee_. Not because it was another day at school. And most certainly not because I wasn't prepared for my advanced English literature class. No, it was because ten minutes after I woke up I knew my entire life had a risk of changing. Many may say that I have problem with change. Many may also say that I have a sure chance of winning leadership in my school's chastity club. But, this morning everything could change. In ten minutes, that's six hundred seconds; my life could be forever altered in a way I never even imagined. I may not have a problem with change anymore. I may not have that sure chance of winning an officer position.

I may not have my life anymore.

So I do what any other seventeen year old girl would do in my situation. I flung my hand out of my bed, successfully cutting off the crude re-creation of 'Keep Holding On,' and stared at the ceiling begging any god I could think of to let me go back in time.

But, when the alarm clock chimed again after five minutes and '(You're) Having My Baby' sang throughout my room, I knew I had to get up and face myself. Which brings me to my place of inner monologue: the bathroom. I scowled down at the little white stick and cried. Three minutes, I cringed visibly, and that song will no longer just be a song. How did I get myself into this situation? I crossed my arms over my stomach and gave a slight squeeze. I'm _only_ seventeen. I'm a kid. Sure, I participated in some not-so-kid activity but, I'm not even legal. I'm not even allowed to vote! I glanced down at my watch. Two more minutes.

Are you confused? You're probably not, a bunch of smarties like you. I used to be smart. I have a grade point average that shot through the roof of the norm. I am best friends with the top of the school. Hell, I am the top of the school. If I got anymore un-cool I would have been ostracized. Actually, I am probably ostracized already but the thing about us nerds is we tend to stick together. That is until the next test; then you are on your own and have no chance of talking to me. Especially if you do better on the test. What can I say? I am competitive.

One minute. My heart starts to beat fast. Fifty-five seconds. I can't look. I'm not ready. How did this happen?

A flash of memory hits me fast and hard in the gut. I cringe. Burnt red hair, electric green eyes. Skin. Gripping. Grasping. Oh, that's how it happened.

The alarm goes off on my watch and look back at the little white stick again. It's now or never, Isabella, get a grip. I take a deep breath and flip the little stick over. I blink several times and bring the stick closer to my eyes. I may need contacts but my vision isn't this bad without them. I swirl around pick up the pink box '_Easy to read! Simple symbols that you can't miss!'_ "Bullshit!" I scream and toss the box on the ground. With violence I didn't know I could have at five o'clock in the morning I rip the stick off the counter and shake it. "Maybe if I just shake it…it will…AARGH!" I scream this time in fear, flinging the test over my shoulder.

"Isabella? Mom says to stop screaming or you'll wake Dad," my little brother Alex pops his head into the bathroom. His eyes narrow and he raises his eyebrows, "What are you doing in here?" A shot of panic runs through my system and I push his head out of the room and lock the door behind him. "Hey!" he protests.

"Go away or I'll tell everyone how you spent your break!" I yell through the door as I scan the ground for my little stick. Ah, there it is. Behind the toilet. Wow, I have really good arm. Alec protests progressively get quieter as he walks away from the door. He may be only fifteen but he takes a hint fairly well. Maybe he will get into college one day. I lift the test back up to my eye and sigh. "Division…"

I toss the test back on the counter and slide pathetically down to the floor. Life…meaning…everything…over…

This is the story about how I may or may not have lost my virginity. You're probably rolling your eyes at me. Go ahead, I deserve it I know. This is not a topic that is usually a grey area for anyone. You are either one or the either, right? Virgin or non-virgin. Or is it just virgin or sexually active? I'm sorry I don't really know the politically correct term for my predicament. I would usually take the time to Google it but I'm in the middle of a crisis right now. Anyways, as I was saying this is usually a black and white situation. You are or you aren't. No grey area to muss things up. Except if you are me it seems. Because no matter how hard I think about it I just can't wrap my brain around it. Isabella Swan had sex? No, never. It's just not who I am. Or, at least, who I thought I was. No matter how easy it should be…it's not. Maybe I should just get on with the story right? But to know the present you must really know the past. The past is the only thing that keeps me sane, that keeps me happy, that keeps me tugging to the fact that it was all worth it.

_In media res_: phrase of the day. It basically is a literature term that says the author is too much of a douche to start at the beginning and actually end at the end. I'm sorry but I really have to be a douche for this story. Remember? I have to keep me sane after all or you'll never know how we got here. I know _in media res_ sucks. Have you ever heard of the book _Beloved? _By Toni Morrison? Well, anyways, it's a book of great merit, blah, blah, and blah that basically is the master of _in media res_. I read it earlier this year before I became a moron and decided to go screw up everything. You go through the whole book trying to get back to the beginning to find out what the hell is going on to this woman. Actually it is a great book and you should really pick up a copy…before you die. Trust me, there is no rush. But it may let you understand our whole phrase of the day and make you be thankful I am not as a big as a douche as Morrison. Shit, I just feel her haters coming after me now.

So go grab your Snuggie and make yourself at home. Just don't put your feet on the couch, Mom hates that more than Hitler. She needs to have her priorities straightened, right? Whatever that's a whole 'nother story entirely.

My name is Isabella Swan. I am seventeen years old. I am borderline slut and borderline virgin.

_Cue In Media Res Now…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**December 1, 2010 6:00 a.m.**

I toss my half-heartedly made sandwich into my oversized backpack and pick up my cell phone. No text messages, it spelled out to me. But at six o'clock in the morning it seemed as if even my phone was mocking me. Of course, no one would text me this early. Not anymore. I threw the phone along with my sandwich and felt my back give in a little as the twenty pound bag arranged itself against my spinous curvature. Ignore me; I have an anatomy test on the skeletal system. I had spent about three hours last night memorizing the textbook in order to dethrone the top grade holder, Angela, and maybe be noticed as the smartest kid in the class. I really have no idea why it matters that they notice me for this feat. If they ask for help I will probably just turn them away anyway. Maybe it's the fact that this is just another class that someone is better than me. I just can't take it anymore. I'm tired of being second best to everyone; I fume as I slam the front door of my house.

I am pathetic, I remind myself as I walk through the dark to the high school. He dumped me for a girl that looks like a nine year old. Her cherubic face and disproportioned teeth smiled back at me as I logged into my Facebook account. _Ben Chance is now in a relationship with_ _Samantha Price_. My eyes blur at the memory and I roughly swipe at them. Great, now I probably look like a drunken goat. Why am I even worrying about him? Okay, maybe not worrying, but I am definitely pissed at him when I shouldn't be. He dumped me because he moved out of the state. It wasn't like he moved a block and threw eggs at me. I probably would have preferred it then because at least he would have been close enough for me to throttle. But no, he just changed his relationship status and decided to tell me like that. Not that this was the first time I got dumped over Facebook. I think this is the third or fourth, actually. Yeah, nerds can get dates. Well, at least this nerd can. Not that they are anything ever to brag about.

I started dating when I was sixteen. His name was Andy Larsen and he was special to me. When I was fat and ugly and more pathetic than I am now I had the largest crush on him. He was an older man to me, me at the tender age of ten and he at the mature age of eleven. If it wasn't our age that kept us separate it definitely was his attractiveness to my messy blob of Isabella. So when he finally asked me out at the age of sixteen I pretty much swooned and landed in fantasy land. He gave me my first kiss. Something that I was pretty sure would never happen. I even joked to people that it was a sacred vessel and I would probably kiss someone for the first time at the altar. You know how they say when you have your first time you should be in love because you will be eternally in love with the guy and shit? Well that's what happened with me and Andy in a more PG sort of way. He kissed me and took me to the movies. To this day I still cannot tell you what the hell happened in _The Princess and the Frog_. There may have been a mosquito and I am not entirely sure there was a real princess. My friend, Jane, just hit me I told her that and she hit my again harder when I told her there was children right next to us. Not that they would have been that scarred for life because seriously, I'm pretty sure Cinderella got more action than I did with Andy. Wait, was Cinderella in that movie? Whatever, not the point. Andy dumped me after three blissful weeks when he decided I was too immature and a lot like cling wrap. Whatever.

Jamie was my next endeavor and he was a real winner. High school dropout and he had no idea what he wanted to do after that. Not that I have a problem with high school dropouts. If my parents didn't push me so damn hard I probably would have skipped out on my sixteenth birthday myself. But I did have a problem with how he saw me as a piece of ass quite literally. Jamie was my second real boyfriend. I met his parents and his relatives and he met my mom. He taught me how to kiss correctly and how to give a speedy hand job during the middle school production of _The Princess and the Frog_. Again, I have no idea what happened in that stupid story. We really didn't have an emotional relationship. He was just out of a two year relationship that nearly broke him and I was the girl who thought I could fix everything. I did fix him. I made him happy. But he sucked the life out of me. We tried to be happy together but we were only happy when our mouths were busy with something other than words. He broke my hymen on his hand when he decided it would be a good job to hit third base on a hill with me standing on an incline. Fuck that shit. I felt bad when I had to end things but, seriously, he broke me on his hand and wanted me to drop out to live with him in his grandparents' basement. I thought only guys did that on television. Or at least were really romantic. Too bad one of his family members that I met works at my grocery store and likes to crush my eggs and bread in her stupid vendetta. Oh, well, at least I got out of that one with my ass still a virgin and everything else, disregarding my poor soft tissue, still pretty damn virginal.

What can I say? I'm a teenager and we tend to screw up a lot.

The most recent guy was Ben Chance and he was different. At least I thought he was. He was smart and courteous and I knew that I was the best he could do at the school. He had a reputation for being a bit of an asshole. And I'm not even going to deny it, he really was an asshole. So why date him? I wanted to get over Jamie and feel something for someone again. We didn't do anything physical. We took things slow. He brought me brownies and Mountain Dew when I told him my parents forbade me from it. Sweet pleasures and they made me happy. I knew it wouldn't last. I knew he was moving. I knew he would move on. So I really don't know why his dumping is such a shock. Probably because I wanted to do it myself. I didn't want to get dumped by an Internet site. I wanted to get dumped by a man. Too bad there are no men in high school.

Alright, inner monologue over. Who's bored? I'm counting about three people in the back sleeping. That's alright. I can handle a smaller crowd anyways, I have stage fright.

**December 1, 2010 7:00 am**

School sucks. Especially my school. The motto is 'Every Student Will Graduate.' I almost feel a little guilty to be graduating from here. But, what choice do I have? This is where I want to live and this is the only school in the area. So I suck it up every day and walk to school, or prison for the immature. I have a small circle of friends that are generally all after the same thing as me: freedom. We work hard in school because we want out. We don't work hard because we actually like school No, school's a bitch. A big bitch that ate my dog and made a model out of her bones. Yeah, school's just like that.

The difference between me and my friends is I am the louder and more outgoing of the group. Have you ever heard how pretty people surround themselves with less attractive people to raise their own property value? Yeah, well it doesn't really work that way in my…er, clique? We cling away from the stupidity for our own sanity. Too bad for us we have one weak point: me. I'm not going to go into a full on rant about how I am oh so much more different than they are because it really isn't worth it. Here are the facts:

First, I am a colossal nerd.

Second, there is a part of me—and I don't know how dominant that part might be—that desperately wanted to get laid.

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably confused about how I was going to achieve the second with the first.

Once I dumped Jamie I pledged abstinence but lately I just want to get it over with. I'm going to be in college soon and I don't want to be the loser anymore. I don't know how my virginity will affect that but somehow, some horrible how, it will. But the thing about my town is, the girls can be hot but the guys are generally not. And I'm not being shallow. It's just the way it is. All the good guys have been taken since preschool and there is no room rest for the transfers.

"Isabella!" I pull my headphones out of my ears hastily and am faced with Sammi. She smiles and rearranges the textbooks in her arms dangerously. I hold out my arms for her textbooks and she hugs them close to her chest. "I'm not going to be at lunch today because I have to take a Calculus exam again. Christy scored higher than me, again." I nod bored. She always scores higher and Sammi always goes away during lunch. I don't even expect her to show up most days anymore. Some friendship we have.

"Yeah, sure. It's fine. I have to go study for a test anyways. See you," I mutter as I head to my locker. Today just sucks.

**Present Day**

I close the laptop and smile. Hopefully he'll read it; I wipe a tear from my eye and nod. He will see it. It will be front page news in town. Not that that will particularly matter. But if you're reading this Edward, it's me Bella. And I think we need to talk. I'll keep writing until you find me. I'm not in love with you. I just think you should know.

**A/N: So no reviews but I have some alerts on this so that must mean someone is reading. I'll probably update this story pretty quickly just because I need to because sadly all up to this point all events are only skewed in names. My life is so fricking average I can write fanfiction out of it. You know diaries? Well this is going to be a bit like mine.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**December 1, 2010 12:30 p.m.**

Anatomy test. Yes, I killed you. I used my mighty writing utensil to stake your EduSoft-ed ass. I glanced quickly at my neighbor and smirked at her grimace. I may have a shot at winning this, I laughed to myself and raised my hand to turn in the test. My teacher appraised me slightly. How long had I been working on that test? I sneak a peek at my cell phone. Fifteen minutes. That's a bit slow for me. Angela sighs loudly and looks at me. Yeah, she knows. I own this test. I OWN this test, Angela. And you know it, and I know it, and the test scanner will know it. Suck it!

I can't wait for today to get out. Not that I hate school that much. I can hardly keep a straight face at that. Yes, I hate school. But not as much as I am afraid of boats. Any boats. Ships. Anything that is supposed to hold me over a billion feet above water. Uh, no thanks. Has anyone not seen _Titanic_? Hot girl goes on ship and meets hot guy. They bang in an old car. He screams "I'm king of the world!" and they plan to be together forever. Sounds like a great plan, eh? Well, it was until Mr. Murdoch ran the boat into a chunk of ice and pretty much the entire cast dies. Except the girl because she's a fat bitch all of a sudden who needs an entire door to keep her ass alive. I still stick to it that she and the guy could have survived and the movie would have been the best movie in the entire world. But…it didn't so it's not. It's more of like in my top ten favorite movies now. Anyways…where was I? Oh, yeah. I hate boats. If I want to die I would go bungee jumping with a rubber band. An extremely thin rubber band. Dying on a boat is not in the plan.

Too bad my dad didn't even care about the plan. No. He just decided that we would go on a cruise in the middle of my senior year instead of the end of it. He obviously is out of the loop in my plan. And if, a very big if, I planned to die on a boat I am glad it would be in the middle of the year anyways. It would get me out of my math course so much quicker.

But, I don't plan to die on a boat.

I plan to suck it up and get on the damn boat. And besides, who else gets to use the excuse "Sorry, I'll be in Mexico?" Yeah, just me. Which is pretty awesome.

"Isabella? You there?" Angela smiles at me politely, "How do you think you did?"

"The part about the sarcomeres theory of contraction may have tripped me up. How about you?" I know aced this.

"About the same then. Are you ready for break?" Angela is always so nice. If it wasn't a test day we would be gushing to each other about everything. She isn't really that competitive she just goes with the flow and does as well as she can. Which is pretty damn well. Such a shame.

"Yes, so ready. Except for the part where I could hit an iceberg and die."

"Aren't you going to Mexico?"

"Yeah, that and the Caribbean," I toss my binder into my backpack. Must. Get. Out. Of. Here.

"Then you'll be going through the Gulf. I don't remember icebergs being in tropical waters…" Angela laughs.

"Thank you, Miss Optimistic," I grumble.

"No problem, Miss Pessimistic."

Angela Weber is the Yin to my Yang. The peanut to my butter. The taco to my salsa. The patella to my femur. Without her I would have no intelligent banter in this class. I wish she was older…I wish she was more impure. I wish she would ask me questions like…

**December 1, 2010 3:43 p.m.**

"So you gonna get a winter fling?" Mike laughs loudly into my ear. I turn down the volume on my phone and shrug, forgetting again that he can't see. "Did you nod or shrug?" Mike asks after my delayed answer.

"Shrugged this time," I glare at Alec who pokes me in the ribs. "I'm not going to go after anyone. That's not my style. And besides, I can't get anyone anyway."

It's true. I'm not going on the boat to get a guy. But when Mike asked me the thought stayed with me. At this point in time my expectations for this vacation were vague. I wanted meet someone but I didn't expect it to happen. But in the back of my head I know I really, really want to. I packed my tight jeans. I packed lotion. I packed girly things. I packed and packed and packed to meet someone.

But it won't happen.

Not only am I 'egh' in the looks department but I am easily labeled nerdy and virgin. How they do it…the world will never know. But they do it and by gods they do it well.

"Isabella, shut the fuck up. We know you're hot and smart and that's too much for guys to handle but seriously shut the fuck up with the low self esteem." I blanched at his words. I've never had to describe my action as blanch but that's what Mike made me do. He made me blanch.

Word of the Day: Confabulation. In psychiatry confabulation means, according to this nifty website 'the free dictionary (dot) com' to be a plausible but imagined memory that fills in gaps in what is remembered. What the hell does that mean to you? To me? To the whole fucked up day? Confabulation is what Mike just tried to do to me. His whole Isabella is hot and awesome speech is confabulation. He's trying to get me to remember what I am in fact not. Lawyers do it all the time to make people tell the 'truth.' The truth is usually not the truth and this explain why the court system can be flawed and lawyers are so stinking rich I have to get febreeze whenever I go over to confabulator of an uncle's house.

"Whatever, Mike. We're pulling into port right now. So I'll talk to you later." I hurry him off the line before we get to port. I will need at least ten minutes of mental prep work before I see the floating metal death trap. I may be smart but the whole floating steel still does me a good mind fuck.

"Wait! You didn't answer my question!"

"What question?" I mumble. Seriously, I did forget. I wanted him off the line and really didn't care too much about whatever he had to say anymore.

"Are you going to have a winter fling, Miss Isabella?" Where his British accent came from I will never know.

"I don't know, Mike. Probably not. But if I do I will think you're name the entire time! Good bye!"

"See ya later, smart ass. Don't hit an icerberg."

"I will try my very hardest to not."

**December 1, 2010 4:30 p.m.**

Fuck. Did I mention I was going on a cruise? And that it was a boat cruise? Did I mention that a boat is in no way, shape, or form supposed to be this freakin' giant! I felt my imaginary balls quiver at the sight of this thing. It is monstrous. It is a floating death trap. I'm doomed. My life is over. I see my watery grave. I see my grim reaper: a ship.

"So are we still going to call it a boat, Isabella?" My dad chuckled at me. I glared up at his reflection in the mirror. He winked. Jerk. "A little bigger than what you though?"

"No, when I thought of a boat this was it. It looks the Titanic. I'm going to die." I dead pan and cringe as he parks. "Do I have to get on?"

"Yes," my parents order me out of the car.

Alright so this ship is giant. It's big, white, and bulky. How it is floating can remain a mystery as long as it continues to do that: float. I'm easy to please, Mr. Ship, just stay up. I'll watch for icebergs if you promise to float away from them, alright? I may have done a quick hail Mary and a cross over my heart before handing the stewardess my ticket. She was cute and old. Like a little wrinkly raisin with an accent. I never knew she would be the face of death.

"Have a good trip," The elderly woman smiled at me. Is it just me or did I see a glint of red behind her irises? Oh gods…

"Thank you," I muttered and followed my family up the escalators. Ha-ha, electronic stairway to heaven…

"PICTURE TIME!" Alec chirped at the top of the stairs. I can't believe it…hell has a photo booth.

**Present Time**

Hey, Edward. I don't know if you're reading this. I hope you're reading this. Remember, if you are then you should call me. Wait, we didn't exchange phone numbers. Just send me a private message on here, okay? I promise: I am not in love with you. This isn't a story to tell you that I'm in love with you. Just read it, alright? Then you'll understand. Or you could just figure out how to contact me…and then we could talk. We really need to talk.

**A/N: Hey! We have a great response going for this story. So many frickin' story alerts. I was actually kinda shocked. I had to go dig up my diary from the cruise to use some of my oh-so-only-funny-to-me lines. God, this story just keeps getting worse. So let me know what you think and how it's going. I really can write like a normal human being but I do enjoy writing how I think. Everything is jumbled and messy a lot like little Isabella's life will be. BUT if you prefer me to write like a literate human being and all that jazz...let me know.**

**And my Edward? How am I doing? I can only do this part so much justice.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**December 1, 2010 8:37 p.m.**

I found my freedom! I found it! Woo! Can you believe this? This bulky hunk of junk has a teen club. What is that? you may ask me. Well, my good readers a teen club is exactly what it sounds like. It is a small room on the ship where teenagers aged from fifteen to seventeen can gather to participate in good wholesome fun. Cool, right? Except the wholesome part. I mean, seriously, who really wants wholesome fun on vacation. It appears a lot of people though. I saw a bunch of teens sadly being towed by family members most of the afternoon. Their faces mirrored mine. We want to get away from this family vacation as soon as possible. Not that I don't like my family. I mean, who doesn't really like their family? Yeah, teens can be angsty but when it comes down to it we really do appreciate out family. Maybe not aloud but inside…yeah, we appreciate them. I just really don't want to follow my parents and my little brother around all the freakin' time. That is no fun at all.

I hope you haven't come to false conclusions about me. I guess I should spout out some reminders about now. I am nerd. Yes, I may sound like an unusual nerd but that is only because you are stuck in my head. If you were say stuck inside Lauren the Bitch's head you may see me a little bit differently. Like she may see me as short and stubby with a big mouth. While I see me as short and….well, okay I see my physical self pretty much the same as everyone else. I am nerd after all. Not blind. But anyways I just thought it was important for you to remember who I am and who I am not. I talk big inside my head but in the 'real' world…I am such a big ol' wimp.

So the teen club is run by a director. He's kind of annoying. I went into the club, and yes, there were already many people there, but he was acting like a big man on campus. Yay. You get to lead a bunch of teenagers for a week. Yeah, you rock. Cue eye roll. But his voice was really high pitched for a man of his age. Matt, please don't even say my name again. He gave me a form for my parents to fill out. Too bad Alec is allowed in too. God, why did you have to let him turn fifteen this year? Next year was holding such great prospects for him. But my parents agreed to sign me up. I was so happy. I practically filled out the whole form myself in joy. The only thing I needed from them was a signature and a room number. I wasn't allowed to have my own room key. Because I'm a loser. Just kidding…young kids can't have a room by ourselves or some stupid shit like that. All I know is that I have this handy dandy two way radio. Yes, I may be old enough to vote and leave home but I am still not trusted enough to roam alone. Lame, guys. Really lame.

But, anyways.

This ship won't stop moving. I'm sitting in dinner and I can watch my water move. Have you ever seen that movie with the dinosaurs called _Jurassic Park?_ Yeah, the whole dinosaur coming up to eat them and the water moves slightly. Well in cinematic beauty it works but for my stomach…urgh. No. Not only am I freaking out because we are good distance from dry land but now my stomach has decided to flutter. All I want to do it go and do something distracting. If I'm worried about being a dork in front of everyone then I won't be able to concentrate on my stomach. What. A. Victory!

"Are you done?" my dad asks me over his third helping of shrimp cocktails. I look down at my one third eaten shrimp and nod. "You can go turn in that form now if you want. That way you can get to the meet and greet in time." I practically leap from the table and run four decks to the teen club. But what stops me? Oh, little brother…

"Isabella! Don't forget me!"

**December 1, 2010 8:46 p.m.**

Shit! I lost my form. I lost it. I bloody lost it! It was in my pocket I swear! In my haste to get to the club as quick as possible I decided to skip out on the elevator. Who needs more steel death traps right? The idea of an elevator on a boat is highly disconcerting. Go ahead, take a moment to ponder this unnatural disaster. Sick, right? Well I should have done it! But did I? No! That's why I am in this horrible happening! I run my hands through my hair again and tug on the ends. Great, now I will surely get split ends and be stuck with my family forever!

"Do you want to check again?" Alec mumbles. I've dragged him up and down the boat's main stairs several times already. There is no sign of the paper anywhere. Someone probably threw it away. Someone probably shredded it! Just to be a sick bitch like that. Alec doesn't even care. That makes me a bit mad too. Even though I didn't even want him to come I wish he was least disappointed.

"No…we'll just get another form tomorrow." I whisper mournfully. I stand up from my place on the stairs and head to where my parents said they would be.

We pass by the club's glass walls. Everyone is gathered around smiling and laughing. Even if I went in right now to get another form I would be exiled. I would stand out like a big ugly sore thumb. And my brother would definitely come with me. AND we would be labeled as siblings. Sibling who actually hang out together. No thanks, buddy. But, damn there are a lot of them and they really like they are having fun.

I want my form back.

**December 1, 2010 9:52 p.m.**

I hate my life. I hate this boat. I hate the person who maliciously destroyed my form. I hate my luck. I hate this cabin. I hate that the only thing I have to do now is either read _Macbeth_ or update some shitty fan fiction. My life sucks.

My parents offered to go in a get me a new form but I couldn't take the ostracization that was sure to happen. I will get another one tomorrow. But I missed the meet and greet. I will have to break into cliques now. Maybe they will have a nerd clique. It didn't look possible from my quick side glance in there. They all looked happy and beautiful. Like a brochure. You know what I'm saying, right? How the brochures always take 'candid' shots of a bunch of happy and beautiful people and you just think 'yeah, right…that's not possible.' Or is that just me? Whatever. It's what the teen club looked like to me at first glance.

So what did I decide to do? I went to my cabin with my brother. He has a room key but no radio. Life sucks like that sometimes. What did he decide to do? Turn on the most obnoxious cartoon at full blast. Yes, he is clearly as heartbroken about our lost form as I am. Clearly.

I pull out my iPod and blast Green Day into my ears. If I'm going to be stuck all weekend with Alec I might as well not be able to hear him all the time. I reach for my notebook and begin chapter eight of my fan fiction. Screw Shakespeare. My shitty writing can be ten times better than him if I actually cared about that romance shit. Not that I don't. I just have never been exposed to it fully. I can only even write about what I know for stuff to make the same impact. And, well, romance is not something I've experienced as much. I've faced death and crazy people but never boxes of chocolate and dozens of roses. Hmph.

I can't believe we have television reception but no cell reception. If we did I would just spend all day with my land friends and not even bother making boat buddies. But this boat isn't cool enough to have free cell service. So I guess I'll just go be at risk of being exiled tomorrow.

**December 2, 6:45 a.m.**

The boat never stops moving. Ever. We must be in rocky waters. Very, very rocky waters. I've never felt so sick in my life. Everything looks vile. I was worried about gaining weight on this cruise but judging from my stomach I don't think that will even be a problem. Good thing too. The gym is really far below deck and I'd be surrounded by old people. I found it last night when I was moping around on the pool decks. It was raining and the pool was closed. I guess I'm not allowed to swim at 3:17 in the morning after all. That's good for mental notes. I am not allowed to do anything fun. Except get violently ill at…6:47 in the morning. Maybe I should throw something at Alec. His little ass would never turn down the volume on the television. I wonder if I can get the staff to remove it before tonight…maybe.

But the only good thing about today is…teen club. I will go there and I will be epic. Please don't ruin my joy by thinking negative thoughts. I like my bubble of optimism right now. Shun the negative.

Shit, there goes the shrimp.

**Present**

Hey, Edward. Long time no talk huh? I hope my real thoughts aren't keeping you away from answering me. Or maybe you just want to hear the whole story before even bothering with me. I understand. But not really. Remember: I don't love you. I just need to talk to you. But you'll see what I thought about you next chapter. And remember also: I don't lie. There is no point. Until the next time…bon voyage.

**A/N: You guys are so rude. I'm sorry to be open about my hatred for you but last night…I updated last night. I said something about the good story alerts but…shit! I was just trying not to be a big asshole! Review. Review. Review. Thanks for those who actually do bother to hit a stupid little button. God, I'm not saying I'm a perfect reviewer but for struggling stories I do review. C'mon, shit, just do it. Isn't that Nike is always telling me? Well, that's probably what gets me into so much trouble next chapter. So fine. Review or don't review. I am just happy writing this out and holding it hostage.**

**Okay, that's a lie. I'll update as quick as possible.**

**My Edward: Glad to hear you're reading. Lara told me yesterday.**


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